


The queen of beasts

by kagseyamas



Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: F/F, Homophobic Language, I am a simple gay. I see two lesbians. I write about them, Internalized Homophobia, Musicalverse, Post-Canon, Rejanis, They’re seniors now, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 09:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagseyamas/pseuds/kagseyamas
Summary: Regina turned to stare at her, her eyes flickering wide for a fraction of a second, a minuscule betrayal of shock that Janis would cherish forever, before she narrowed them again. Then, she sniffed, turning back to the bathroom mirror and resuming blotting the mascara stains that were streaking her cheeks and dripping down her chin.Noway.“Jesus christ. Take a picture, freak, it’ll last longer.”Janis wanted to laugh. Wanted to dance. Wanted to grin and squeal and yell'Regina George is crying in the school bathroom at a Homecoming dance! Why haven’t the heavens opened up and claimed me yet? Is there traffic?'





	The queen of beasts

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the fall of their senior year, so like a little while after the musical ends. Also please note that I haven’t seen the movie in a while, and this characterization and plot is based solely on the musical version. Please enjoy!

_“Regina George is not cool, she’s a scum-sucking fart-mouth life-ruiner.”_

The words rung in Janis’ ears now, as though she had just spoken them into a deep, gaping cave of eternal darkness. She wouldn’t deny that it was true, even so many years later. Regina had ruined her life. She had pitted everyone against Janis, had lowered her self-esteem so much during such a crucial time in her life because—what? Regina thought she had a _crush_ on her? That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Their friendship had been one of convenience at first, really. They had been seated together on the first day of school by Mrs. Roberts, who hadn’t known at the time the chaos she was about to create. From the get-go, Regina had been a _mean_ little girl. Janis had overheard her mother saying once, to another parent, that she was the result of parents who cared more about doting on her than disciplining her. Regina reigned over their class of six year olds, dictating who was allowed to use the swing-set and when, who sat at her table during snacktime, and who the class was going to hate that week. When she didn’t get what she wanted, she kicked up a fit, and quite honestly, Janis had adored being her friend.

Regina was a beast, even in childhood, that much was true—but when she _liked_ you, she was like a rabid guard dog. Throughout the years spanning their friendship, Janis had never once been the one the class hated that week. She had free reign over the entire playground, and whatever toys lay around the classroom, they were hers for the taking. It didn’t matter if someone else was already using the Legos—if Regina ordered someone to drop them, they were Janis’. Approaching middle school, boys talked to her and had crushes on her by association. It was like being a local celebrity. 

Janis had always been plain, and somewhat frumpy, especially from age nine onwards, when she was still trying to discover which clothing flattered her, and which ones made her look like a wet, underfed dog. At the time, she hadn’t understood why someone like Regina still kept her around. Her best friend had grown into herself and her body (her Mom had even let her get highlights in her hair) and she shone in a sea of dull, snotty plebeians. Janis would often look at her own limp, brown hair in the mirror and will it to grow blonde while she slept, willed her nose to shrink and her chest go grow. They didn’t. (Well, her boobs did, eventually, but that was through puberty, not willpower.)

Looking back, it was clear why Regina had kept her around for so long; standing next to Janis, she seemed almost ethereal. She shone three times as bright next to a dull, snotty plebeian, and she knew it. As they grew older, however, she stopped laughing at Janis jokes, stopped swapping her PB&Js for Janis’ Fruit Rollups and started counting calories instead, stopped waiting by her locker in the mornings. She realized that she didn’t need a weird, frumpy friend to look ethereal.

The final blow came in 8th grade, which will forever be branded as _‘The Space Dyke Saga’_. It was also the same year Janis' dad had left them, and that, coupled with the seemingly-random outburst of cruelty from her former best friend, had sent Janis teetering on the edge. It had taken Janis years of therapy and hundreds of canvases to get herself back in the right frame of mind, to mend her head and her heart. So yes, Regina George was a scum-sucking fart-mouth life-ruiner.

Looking at her now, however, she seemed less like a vicious predator, and more like a toad. Or a worm. A shrunken, _shriveled_ worm, baking on the sidewalk and striving to survive.

Janis stood still in her tracks as she stared at the girl in front of her. It was glorious. Like a renaissance painting.

 _No way_.

Regina turned to stare at her, her eyes flickering wide for a fraction of a second, a minuscule betrayal of shock that Janis would cherish forever, before she narrowed them again. Then, she sniffed, turning back to the bathroom mirror and resuming blotting the mascara stains that were streaking her cheeks and dripping down her chin.

No _way_.

“Jesus christ. Take a picture, freak, it’ll last longer.”

Janis wanted to laugh. Wanted to dance. Wanted to grin and squeal and yell _'Regina George is crying in the school bathroom at a Homecoming dance! Why haven’t the heavens opened up and claimed me yet? Is there traffic?'_

But it wasn’t that easy. Had Cady or Damian informed her of this glorious event instead, she would have cackled until her sides ached. But being faced with Regina herself was another story. She caused Janis’ mouth to go dry, her hands to clam up, and her brain to short out. When faced with Regina George, Janis was twelve again. It was the same every time.

“I just have to pee,” she said dumbly, still standing, still staring.

Regina turned to glare at her. Had they not had history, the fire in her eyes might have shaken Janis to her core. Had Janis been someone else, she might have fled.

“Don’t they have bathrooms on the shuttle?” Regina gritted out. Her right nostril was running. It was everything Janis had ever wanted.

Janis shook her metaphorical limbs out. It was just _her_. Nothing to be afraid of. And Janis was quick, she was smart. She wouldn’t let Regina see her as the fool she thought she was. Janis strolled to the sink to stand behind her, looking into the mirror.

“Out of order, I’m afraid. Hey, it’s empty though, if you wanna go cry in _there_ instead.”

Regina rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching before it sank back into a sour frown. Janis pulled a dark purple lipstick out of her purse and started reapplying it to her lips, despite there already being a generous coating there.

“I don’t think they’re handing out crowns for _Trampiest Clown Makeup Ever_ tonight,” Regina said coolly, nodding at her lipstick.

Without missing a beat, Janis pouted at her. “Aw no, _really_? And you were _such_ a shoe in!”

To Janis’ surprise, she startled a snort out of Regina, bubbling snot from her dripping nostril. It was the best thing Janis had ever seen in her life.

Regina clapped a hand over her nose. “Shit. You didn’t see that,” she ordered, going to the stall to dab at her nose.

“Actually,” Janis said through a cackle, “I _did_ see it, and I want someone to speak about it at my funeral.”

Regina looked unsure now, an expression Janis had only ever seen on her once or twice growing up. She settled for rolling her eyes after a second. Janis hoisted herself up to sit on the counter, curiosity nagging at her now.

“Hey, why _are_ you crying, anyway?”

“None of your business, carpet muncher,” Regina snapped, before she loosened her hunched shoulders and sighed. “Sorry. That was a reflex, because I hate you. I know, I’m trying to be a nicer person and everything because I met God that time I died, and She told me I’d have to be less of a bitch if I wanted to come back to Hotel Miami again,” she said, her vocal fry long and drawled.

Janis had a hard time believing that Regina had met anyone other than Satan when she died, but that was beside the point. She shrugged, unbothered.

“If you’re trying to be nicer then why do you still _say_ stuff like that to other people?”

_Other than the fact that you’re a hot pile of flaming garbage?_

Regina turned to the mirror and resumed covering the now-dry mascara stains under her eyes with concealer.

“I can’t help it, they just come out. It’s what my inner-goddess wants to say. Anyway, I know you’re not _really_ a lesbian, so why does it even matter?”

Janis felt a spike of rage bubbling up, but she squashed it immediately.

“What if I was? Would it matter _then_?”

Regina watched her carefully from the corner of her eye, before changing the subject completely. She had always done that, when she was starting to get uncomfortable.

“If you must know, I was crying because I just got a call and my Grandpappy died.”

Despite herself, Janis heart sank. “Shit, I’m sorry. I know you guys were close.”

Regina only shrugged. “It’s whatever. I wouldn’t be so upset, only I’m tequila drunk right now and he paid for my car insurance.”

Janis forgot to squash the rage this time. “You don’t mean that. You’re a bitch, but even _you’re_ not _that_ much of a bitch.”

Regina watched her with challenging eyes, before sighing, letting her shoulders sag. Now, she looked more vulnerable than Janis had ever seen her before. There was a loose strand of hair stuck to her cheek with dry tear, and Janis’ hand twitched as she fought the urge to brush it aside, just as she had a hundred times before.

“I mean you’re _right_ , but I would _literally_ kill myself if I cried in front of you right now.”

Janis folded her arms. “I’ve already seen you cry. Plenty of times. Like, remember in third grade when you went down the slide and everyone saw your flamingo undies and you cried in the bathroom for like, an hour?”

That startled another laugh out of Regina, and Janis felt a sudden glow of pride. Odd, considering she was supposed to hate her. She wished she wasn’t so tipsy off of spiked punch right now.

“They weren’t flamingos, they were parrots,” Regina corrected her, sniffing again.

Then, to Janis’ surprise, she hopped up onto the counter next to her. It was strange, she thought, to be missing your Senior Homecoming just to sit beside your sworn enemy on a bathroom counter, half trying not to freak out, and half trying not to slip into one of the sinks. It was even stranger that she wasn't exactly hating every second of it.

“Look,” Regina said, her voice bored, “I know you don’t care about other people’s opinions and everything, but it’s what my inner-goddess wants, so I’m just gonna say it: I’m sorry for the way I treated you before. Like, it’s none of your business why I did it, but you didn’t deserve that. Honestly, I still think you’re kind of...cool.”

Janis was her twelve year old self again, clinging to any hope of validation. “You do?”

Regina eyes flickered over her face for a second before she rolled them again. “I mean, you don’t care about what anyone thinks of you, no matter what they say about you. Like, you wear literally the ugliest clothes ever and people make fun of you all the time behind your back, but you don't give a shit. It’s awesome. Or whatever.”

Janis stared at her in disbelief. Then, her voice quiet, she said “I think it _is_ my business. To know why you did it.”

Regina stared at the stalls for what seemed like an eternity. “I was dealing with some stuff. It’s not important. You were there, and I took it out on you. I tried to apologize, once, but obviously you didn’t wanna here it, so.” She shrugged.

Janis stared at her incredulously. “What? You did _not_!”

“I _did_ ,” Regina insisted. “Remember in Freshmen year, when I liked your Instagram photo of your ugly hairless cat?”

Janis gave her a deadpan look. She remembered, alright. Some jackass had commented something underneath about how 'obsessed with pussy' she was, and she'd taken it down. She didn't really care _that_ much, but Puma Furman didn't deserve that disrespect.

“That was you trying to _apologize_? You unliked it an hour later!”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

This time, Janis did reach out and brushed the hair away. Regina looked drawn, and intrigued, and repulsed, all at once. Janis shoved her hand into the pocket of her dress pants, feeling the same way.

Two freshmen girls walked into the bathroom, giggling.

“ _Get out!_ ” Regina shrieked at them, and one of them burst into tears as they fled the bathroom.

Janis cackled as Regina shook her hair back out, recovering from her own outburst. Janis felt a strange pang of nostalgia, the warm glow of feeling...protected, she thought it was. Of having a guard dog once again.

“See, _that_ wasn’t nice.”

“I said I was going to be nic _er_ , not _nice_.”

Janis was going to hop up, then, find her way back to Damian on the dance floor, drink another cup of punch, remember that she was supposed to _hate_ Regina, not actually _enjoy_ her company. Instead, something compelled her to stayed put, watching as Regina stared back at her. She watched the curiosity in her eyes morph into panic, watched as her pink glittery eyelids and long lashes drooped.

Then, Janis’ shoulders tensed as in a flurry of blonde hair and perfume and coral lipstick, Regina pressed a hasty kiss to her lips. Janis hadn't been kissed since art camp in the ninth grade, and it hadn't resembled this in anyway. The girl had been much larger than her, with short hair and raccoon eyeliner and braces, and when she had taken Janis by the shoulders she had felt so completely warm, and so breakable. Now, Janis was no the one who felt breakable. Regina's hands felt bony and twig-like as they touched lightly against her jaw. She smelled like pomegranates, or something, and it was so intoxicating, the way she moved her lips against Janis' was _intoxicating_ , and—

Regina was pulling away, remembering herself, slipping down off of the counter.

“Shit,” she mumbled. “ _Shit_. Don’t. Say.” She began to reapply the coral lipstick. Janis could have kissed her again and reapplied it for her. “A word.”

Janis couldn’t help but laugh. This was too _good_. “Oh my god. _Now_ I know why you were such a raging _bitch_ to me back then.”

“Shut up, Janis.”

“You had a _crush_ on me!”

“Shut _up_ , Janis. I’ll ruin your life.”

Janis continued. It all made sense now, and it was so _glorious_.  “You didn’t think _I_ was a lesbian at all. You thought _you_ were!”

Regina didn’t say a word, only glared at her. She didn’t miss the way her eyes still flickered down to Janis’ lips when she thumbed them free of smudges. There was a smear of purple lipstick just below Regina’s mouth, which was making her feel all kinda of fluttery.

“Well,” she said, hopping off the counter, “as much as I’d _love_ to stay and make out with you Regina, that was sarcasm by the way, I already _have_ a gay bestie to go hang out with.” She clapped her on the shoulder. “I fee like you have a lot of internalized homophobia to deal with. So good look with that.”

Janis exited the bathroom before Regina could say another word, pride and amusement rising in her throat. This was _too good_. She needed to tell Damian and Cady right. Now.

Once she reached them, however, she couldn’t do it. Not when she remembered the flare of panic in Regina’s eyes before she had kissed her, or the taste of tequila on her mouth, or the ball of longing deep in Janis’ gut, keeping her glued to the counter. She shook it off.

_“Regina George is not cool, she’s a scum-sucking fart-mouth life-ruiner.”_

Still true. But she was also a _really_ good kisser.

**Author's Note:**

> Thats cute that you think I’m finished with these girls.
> 
> My main blog is @demheter and my musical sideblog is @highfemmeregina if you have any asks/suggestions/prompts!!


End file.
